i need to collect my thoughts.
& then ill post it on here. :)
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
2ne1
I'm a year older than the last time i updated.. crajee haha
Its late...and I don't have pictures yet so... please bear with me for a little bit.... till i update about my birthday weekend/weekish =)
I am loved. <3
Its late...and I don't have pictures yet so... please bear with me for a little bit.... till i update about my birthday weekend/weekish =)
I am loved. <3
Thursday, July 2, 2009
PARADISE :)
The following was taken from John's blog: (check it out)
http://opxroads.blogspot.com/
June 27, 2009
So we finally arrived at Sanyang! To be honest, I’m a bit disappointed. Allison (our group leader) told us that Sanyang is known as “Paradise Beach” in The Gambia. I was expecting crystal clear blue water with smooth silky sand, beautiful palm trees, and hotels constructed along the coast. To my disappointment, the beach was nothing like this. There were hotels, but not as grandiose as I had imagined. I honestly can’t say they were even hotels. It was merely a one-story building with 4 dirty bed rooms. Dead bugs underneath and above the mattress and filthy pillows were the first thing that came into my sight as I stepped into the rooms. The ocean wasn’t as clean as I expected it to be and the sand wasn’t as smooth. Dead and rotten fish were here and there, trash was everywhere, and yet this beach was called the “paradise beach”? I couldn’t help but feel disappointed…
As the sun set, however, I saw the beauty in things. Granted that there was trash lying on the ground, the nice cool breeze, the beautiful sunset, and the distant drum melody playing in the background made me appreciate the beauty of Sanyang. We spent our night talking and chatting, gazing at the stars, listening to the ocean water, messing around with the crabs, and walking along the beach. It was truly Paradise Beach.
-- I went on a mission trip to Nicaragua this past summer with a group of 10 people, including me, from May 23-30 (exactly Sat-Sat). I believe it was from Tuesday to Thursday that we went to this place called San Benito.
San Benito's "nickname" was called: La Paraiso (The Paradise)
Coincidence? Well... maybe. But lets try to think outside the box for a moment. John describes "Paradise Beach" as a beach that we, Americans, would not exactly define as "paradise." I honestly think that the Galveston beach (which is pretty dirty in my opinion) is more like "paradise" than the beach John has described. However, when you think about it, the beach (that John saw) might actually be the better off area in Gambia. (i think?) So to Africans, it is their "Paradise Beach."
Now here's where I connect it even more to my days in Nicaragua, besides the name. Just like John thought "Paradise Beach" was paradise, I was skeptical as to why we were going to go do mission work in a place for 3 days that was already labeled as "the paradise."
When we reached San Benito on Tuesday, I immediately thought we drove into a third world country inside of the country of Nicaragua. (I'm not sure if that makes sense.... --;;) Although the parts of Nicaragua that I have seen since I arrived were already pretty poor, but this.... this was unbelievable. I was overwhelmed by what I was seeing. This was the least expected, something I could never imagine.
This place was the definition of people living in poverty. Hundreds of homes were spread out across this piece of land, on dirt and on mud: on clearly unsafe roads. "Homes" were made out of old wood or other people's trash, etc. I wouldn't be able to fully describe how bad it was. There was no running water, and most houses had no electricity. Showers were taken with only the equivalent of two water bottles from literally a water bottle. Everyday (no matter how young or old), children, women, elderly, and men would walk in the heat to the two wells that Missionary Jun set up to pump water into buckets and then walk it home; repeat. To pump water in the heat, at least two times a day and then walking that heavy thing (many buckets at once) home (esp when the homes are so far away from the wells)... is NO JOKE. I seriously felt like throwing up because I was so exhausted from the heat and all that manual labor. I really don't understand how they can do that everyday. But, I know why. They have to. They don't really have a choice.
Working there for three days (we mostly did manual labor there and vbs), it was hard to not realize (easy to realize) why it was called "the paradise." People there are filled with so much joy. Filled with so much love for each other, and for the love of God. Everyone waved at you, everyone smiled at you. Their joy was overwhelmingly addicting. Their faith was seemingly indescribable. The children there were incredibly delightful haha.
To them, that place was their paradise. Before they were able to buy a piece of land for only $10 from the government (??), they had nothing. Nowhere to go and no place to call their home. This place was their home. This was their "Paraiso." John's story and mine are incredibly alike. From the name of location, to our insightful realizations of testimony. I don't think this was a coincidence. Take these two similar stories into consideration.
Be thankful. Be joyful. Share love. and Have some faith.
http://opxroads.blogspot.com/
June 27, 2009
So we finally arrived at Sanyang! To be honest, I’m a bit disappointed. Allison (our group leader) told us that Sanyang is known as “Paradise Beach” in The Gambia. I was expecting crystal clear blue water with smooth silky sand, beautiful palm trees, and hotels constructed along the coast. To my disappointment, the beach was nothing like this. There were hotels, but not as grandiose as I had imagined. I honestly can’t say they were even hotels. It was merely a one-story building with 4 dirty bed rooms. Dead bugs underneath and above the mattress and filthy pillows were the first thing that came into my sight as I stepped into the rooms. The ocean wasn’t as clean as I expected it to be and the sand wasn’t as smooth. Dead and rotten fish were here and there, trash was everywhere, and yet this beach was called the “paradise beach”? I couldn’t help but feel disappointed…
As the sun set, however, I saw the beauty in things. Granted that there was trash lying on the ground, the nice cool breeze, the beautiful sunset, and the distant drum melody playing in the background made me appreciate the beauty of Sanyang. We spent our night talking and chatting, gazing at the stars, listening to the ocean water, messing around with the crabs, and walking along the beach. It was truly Paradise Beach.
-- I went on a mission trip to Nicaragua this past summer with a group of 10 people, including me, from May 23-30 (exactly Sat-Sat). I believe it was from Tuesday to Thursday that we went to this place called San Benito.
San Benito's "nickname" was called: La Paraiso (The Paradise)
Coincidence? Well... maybe. But lets try to think outside the box for a moment. John describes "Paradise Beach" as a beach that we, Americans, would not exactly define as "paradise." I honestly think that the Galveston beach (which is pretty dirty in my opinion) is more like "paradise" than the beach John has described. However, when you think about it, the beach (that John saw) might actually be the better off area in Gambia. (i think?) So to Africans, it is their "Paradise Beach."
Now here's where I connect it even more to my days in Nicaragua, besides the name. Just like John thought "Paradise Beach" was paradise, I was skeptical as to why we were going to go do mission work in a place for 3 days that was already labeled as "the paradise."
When we reached San Benito on Tuesday, I immediately thought we drove into a third world country inside of the country of Nicaragua. (I'm not sure if that makes sense.... --;;) Although the parts of Nicaragua that I have seen since I arrived were already pretty poor, but this.... this was unbelievable. I was overwhelmed by what I was seeing. This was the least expected, something I could never imagine.
This place was the definition of people living in poverty. Hundreds of homes were spread out across this piece of land, on dirt and on mud: on clearly unsafe roads. "Homes" were made out of old wood or other people's trash, etc. I wouldn't be able to fully describe how bad it was. There was no running water, and most houses had no electricity. Showers were taken with only the equivalent of two water bottles from literally a water bottle. Everyday (no matter how young or old), children, women, elderly, and men would walk in the heat to the two wells that Missionary Jun set up to pump water into buckets and then walk it home; repeat. To pump water in the heat, at least two times a day and then walking that heavy thing (many buckets at once) home (esp when the homes are so far away from the wells)... is NO JOKE. I seriously felt like throwing up because I was so exhausted from the heat and all that manual labor. I really don't understand how they can do that everyday. But, I know why. They have to. They don't really have a choice.
Working there for three days (we mostly did manual labor there and vbs), it was hard to not realize (easy to realize) why it was called "the paradise." People there are filled with so much joy. Filled with so much love for each other, and for the love of God. Everyone waved at you, everyone smiled at you. Their joy was overwhelmingly addicting. Their faith was seemingly indescribable. The children there were incredibly delightful haha.
To them, that place was their paradise. Before they were able to buy a piece of land for only $10 from the government (??), they had nothing. Nowhere to go and no place to call their home. This place was their home. This was their "Paraiso." John's story and mine are incredibly alike. From the name of location, to our insightful realizations of testimony. I don't think this was a coincidence. Take these two similar stories into consideration.
Be thankful. Be joyful. Share love. and Have some faith.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
summer 09
how do i describe my summer 2009 in one word? i cant. however, from an outsider's perspective, considering the things i do while i stay in my hometown just taking summer classes, i guess you could describe my summer as "boring". but for me, i describe it as: a lesson, a revelation, an inspiration, contentment, or personal development.
these past few days, possibly starting from last week; i have learned so much about myself and how i have been living my life. it was not how I wanted to live. and it is not how i will live. i have not desired "to change" as much as i am desiring now.
for quite some time i have been wanting to change. to change who i am. to change how i act. to change what i have come not to like. i would pray for change. i would long for change. but whats different this time than all the other times is that.... i am actually trying and putting in effort to change. to talk the talk. and to walk the walk. and yes, if i somehow forget that i am trying (!!) or if i start losing hope, i pray to God that very night before i go to sleep that when i wake up the next day, i will try again and not give up. i want to change. to grow. to mature. to become someone better that what i am right now. and i will.
in the beginning though, i only wanted to change for other people. because of what other people said about me. because of how i wanted people to see me, etcetc..
but when you aren't doing anything at home but school stuff, (man i sound like a nerd... -_-) you tend to think alot. and you tend to REALIZE alot as well.
i dont want to change for you. for him. for her. for them. or for anybody else in this world. i want to change for myself. it took a long way to figure that one out... maybe because i was stubborn. maybe because i was just being dumb. but now i know. and now you know too.
these past few days, possibly starting from last week; i have learned so much about myself and how i have been living my life. it was not how I wanted to live. and it is not how i will live. i have not desired "to change" as much as i am desiring now.
for quite some time i have been wanting to change. to change who i am. to change how i act. to change what i have come not to like. i would pray for change. i would long for change. but whats different this time than all the other times is that.... i am actually trying and putting in effort to change. to talk the talk. and to walk the walk. and yes, if i somehow forget that i am trying (!!) or if i start losing hope, i pray to God that very night before i go to sleep that when i wake up the next day, i will try again and not give up. i want to change. to grow. to mature. to become someone better that what i am right now. and i will.
in the beginning though, i only wanted to change for other people. because of what other people said about me. because of how i wanted people to see me, etcetc..
but when you aren't doing anything at home but school stuff, (man i sound like a nerd... -_-) you tend to think alot. and you tend to REALIZE alot as well.
i dont want to change for you. for him. for her. for them. or for anybody else in this world. i want to change for myself. it took a long way to figure that one out... maybe because i was stubborn. maybe because i was just being dumb. but now i know. and now you know too.
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